Table Manners
by footshooter
Summary: Clint just wants to eat. Natasha wants some etiquette. Everyone else just happens to join in. Again, was deleted and reposted coz I'm an eejit who can't work the internet :P.


Natasha was glaring daggers.

"And _then-_"

"Clint?"

Clint stopped mid sentence and looked over at Natasha.

"Yes?"

"Stop waving your fork."

Clint sighed, anger rising in his system.

"Okay, so I'm not allowed to speak with my mouth full or gesture with a fork. And I'm not allowed to eat with my _fingers _even though we're eating _pizza_ and the reason its cut like this is because it's meant to be eaten that way. Anything else? Oh yeah, I can't drink beer out of a mug."

"Or the bottle," Tony helpfully added, and Clint pointed his fork at him.

"Or the bottle, I have to use a _glass_."

"And we're not allowed drinking competitions," Bruce said.

Clint threw his arms up and, through a mouthful of pizza said, "I know. What's with that?"

Natasha's eyes narrowed, "Well _last_ time you all woke me up at 4am shouting because Bruce had hulked out and was walking into everything, and then we had to battle an alien _fleet_ while you all had hangovers!"  
"That is a fair point," Steve said. Everyone glared, and he looked down at his plate, cutting a triangle of pizza with his fork and popping it into his mouth so he didn't have to talk anymore.

"And you're not allowed to use the same knife for peanut butter and jelly, Clint," Tony added, smirking.  
"Yeah! That just makes life a lot harder."

"And if you spill cereal on the floor you have to brush it up."  
"What are the mice going to eat?"

"_Mice?_" Natasha asked. Clint smirked. "Okay, there aren't any mice. But it's still a pain."

"You're military personnel. I'd expect you to have a few manners and be able to clean up after yourself."

"I'm not military personnel, and yet you still expect me to pick towels up from the bathroom floor," Bruce said, his bottom lip _almost_ pouting. Clint and Tony smirked.

"That's because they don't _dry_ otherwise. If you want to dry yourself on a wet towel go ahead. Just don't complain when you get angry and hulk-out and then have to pay for damages."

"_I'm_ not military personnel, and yet you still expect me to clean away my underwear," Tony said, crossing his arms. Clint spat out pizza and Natasha looked mildly disgusted before turning to Tony.

"Yeah, well, that's just disgusting."

Tony shrugged.

"And I'm not allowed to put my feet on the table. Or on the chairs."  
"I'm not eating whilst staring at your feet, Clint."  
"What about my feet?"  
"No, Tony."  
"What about-?"

"Bruce, don't join in."

"So why can't I sit cross legged on a chair."  
"Because _children_ do that, and you're supposed to be a superhero. And then your legs go dead and you fall over trying to get up and nearly knock the table over! It's just… Were you never taught table manners?"

Clint shrugged, "Cap, are you the only one she _hasn't_ had a go at?"

Steve flushed red, tried to speak, realised he had food in his mouth and hastily swallowed and then shook his head.

"Nope. Apparently we're not allowed to walk round in just a towel after showers, too."

Everyone but Natasha started to laugh.

"See, Tasha. You're just being totally unreasonable," Clint said, and then was glad that looks couldn't kill.

"Sometimes I think I'm the only sane person in this place," she muttered, and sighed. Clint burped, and was patted on the back by Tony.

"I'm guessing I can't do that, either?" Clint asked, and Natasha shook her head.

"You disgust me."

"I thought it was kinda impressive," Bruce said, shrugging.

The door nearly flying off its hinges interrupted Natasha's comeback, and Thor strode into the room, grabbed a slice of pizza and shoved it down his throat, barely chewing.

"Hey, Thor," Steve said and Thor spat pizza over the table as he bellowed, "Hello, friend."

Tony, Bruce and Clint waited for the explosion.

Thor finished chewing, burped and went in for another one. His wrist was intercepted by Natasha's hand curling around it and he frowned, before looking up into her furious eyes. He smiled,

"Hello Natasha."  
She looked at his grubby hands.

"Hands washed. Now."

Thor looked slightly taken aback and obeyed the command, heading straight for the sink. The men at the table all laughed.

"See. At least I'm not _that_ bad."

Tony frowned and poked at his pizza for a minute before looking up to the other members of the team. Bruce could see a glint in his eye that didn't mean anything good.

"You know when kids are in the playground and they insult each other and hit each other? It's because they _like_ each other right? Is anyone else getting that here?"

Natasha finally lost her temper and threw pizza at Tony's head, and before Tony even had time to comment, Clint had knocked him off his chair and onto his arse.

Thor wandered back over, confused, and picked Tony up by his collar, frowning and almost choking him. He set him down on to his feet and brushed him off, nearly winding him in the process.

"Man of Iron, why are you on the floor?"

The Avengers couldn't help but laugh.


End file.
